"I think," said Chegalle, sitting at his beloved table, shoved a slice of olive oil-soaked cereal bread into his mouth, the olive trees swaying their leaves, and the sunlight falling through the ever-changing and swaying cracks on his broad face, which became mottled and looked like a mosaic from the Hellenistic era: "You can't go on like this forever." "He said you, not for politeness or anything else, but just to show closeness and accentuation, that he used to say that to his brothers, to Meyare, to Toto, but now few people deserve it.

Hopkins blinked, and like his son, he did it with a bit of genuine innocence and childishness. He gave Chegal an encouraging and inquiring look as he held up a glass of white wine with honey and ice.

"I mean you and Sasha." Chegalle nodded to old Andreana, who was bringing a new dish - a small suckling pig made of rosemary and local liqueur (made from fragrant peaches) and slowly roasted on a charcoal fire, red in color, crispy in skin and tender in meat, with arugula on the side, and a fragrant taste: "Do you really want him to stay here for the rest of his life?" No, no, no, I'm not expelling you, you know, my dear Hopkins, you and Sasha are a good gift from Our Lady to me and others, but I must say that Poseidon Island is a good place to live and work, but it is not very suitable for young people, who need to go out and walk, see what they see, and see the big scene...... "His fingers moved over the roast suckling pig, unsure which one to come first. "The one on the left is better." Hopkins made a suggestion, and Chegalle gladly complied, his thick fingers piercing the golden-red pigskin instead of a fork, "Wow! Good fellow," Chegalle exclaimed, "it's a little hot." Having said that, he showed no pain or hesitation, and the piglet's left leg was torn off and raised in front of his mouth like a torch, and his snow-white teeth were closed, and his bones were bitten and gurgling: "Beelzebub and Sasha are big enough," said Don, the lord of Poseidon Island, as he thoughtfully rummaged with the remaining flesh and bones, making it roll like a pencil or a coin: "You see, there are four things that you can never recover, the words spoken, the bullets fired, Missed opportunity, lost time......" Chegalle paused for a moment and tossed the remaining pork leg onto the plate: "In a few years, they will all have to go to college." ”

"There's a university on Poseidon Island," Hopkins said, "there's a computer, there's a library, there's a lab, and the teachers are available." ”

"No," Chegalle shook his head, "they may have been good teachers at the same time, but now they're almost all scared—they're used to putting a good grade on a student's paper, even if it's just a limerick...... We're a little rough at times — I wish Beelzebub and the other kids would go to a better school, like Stanford or Princeton, so that they can learn something really good. Where did you study? Anthony, Harvard Medical School? ”

"Who knows. I've been to so many places, Haval, Karolinska, St. Louis, Michigan, Duke...... And John. Hopkins, look, have the same last name as me," Hopkins replied nonchalantly, "Uh-huh...... he raised a hand and made a wavy forward gesture in the air: "Regenerative medicine, pathophysiology, immunology, pathogenic biology, neurosurgery, anesthesiology, pharmacology...... And so on and so forth, I was always walking around, looking somewhere, stopping here, and sometimes I would go to spice and music appreciation classes, classical poetry classes, cooking classes. ”

Chegalle stared at him for a moment, "Too curious, lose the Garden of Eden," he muttered a well-known proverb, "well, let your little secret stay in your belly—but I'll have to throw Beelzebub on the mainland." ”

Hopkins raised his glass and looked at Chegalle behind the clear glass, the golden liquid rippling slightly, Don's flat, fat face was no different from the roast suckling pig he was enjoying, fat was piling up under the skin, his skin was shiny, his hair was thick like an animal's mane, his chest drooped down, and the fat on his belly hung down below the groin, his arms and legs were twice as thick as they were before the tragedy, and his whole person looked like a pile of melted butter, which was scarce, Whoever was able to gain the trust of the "good man" knew that Chegalle's body was not weakened by this more than a number of times the usual amount of grease, and that he could easily throw an unpleasant bastard from one end of the room to the other in the blink of an eye, or by juggling a short-handled rifle and carving a big hole in the head of the idiot sitting across from him, or by simply beating you into a thin cake with his fists and knees...... Hopkins knew more than anyone else, for example, he might roll up the pancake and stuff it straight into his mouth.

Mutants are stronger, sharper, and more tenacious than ordinary people, and Hopkins pursed his lips, how long will Chegalle live? Twenty years, fifty years, one hundred years? Will he still have children? It was almost inevitable, and because of living in the same house as him and occasionally serving as his personal physician and pharmacist, Hopkins was well aware that Chegalle's sexuality did not decrease with age and weight, that his sperm was a little thin but quite active, and that he could have a dozen children if he wanted to.

For Beelzebub, this was not good, especially since he would have to stay outside for several years to come.

"My previous advice is related to that," said Chegalle, who had a good appetite and who cherished food and never wasted it: "On the mainland, I have some loyal and reliable friends who will take good care of Beelzebub for me, but whoever they are, they are too old to be a student or a friend of that little bastard, and their children are basically hopeless drug addicts, transvestites and homosexuals, and they stink!" He made a disgusted expression and waved his finger as if someone had farted in front of his nose: "So I have come to ask for your help, my dear Hopkins, Beelzebub likes little Sasha, he trusts him like I trust you, and little Sasha is smart and agile enough, he has calmness and reason beyond his peers, which is good, Beelzebub is too reckless and frizzy at times, he needs someone to give him a hand, to give him some pointers, to clear his mind, especially when he is alone...... He said with emotion, "Hopkins, there is nothing more infallible than the friendship that was forged in youth, they are good companions, they were, they are, and they will be rewarded for Sasha, and I dare to swear in the name of Our Lady, Beelzebub is a good boy with affection." ”

"But before that," said Cegalle, as he brought a plate of very thin, crispy and fragrant Carasau bread and sprinkled it with olive oil and oregano leaves, "I must first ask you to accept my help, my friend, I believe that you will be able to deal with your series of 'affairs,' but it is undeniable that little Sasha needs more space and freedom commensurate with it, and that he deserves it, and if he wants to stay, he will be there, and if he wants to go, he will be able to take a step at once—oh oh oh, I'll admit that the flies buzzing behind you can't be a threat to you, but that's pretty annoying, isn't it? He slyly squeezed his eyes at Hopkins: "Let me figure out how to solve this once and for all, old friend, please don't worry, everyone has what they are good at, and what I have is only one of them." ”

"With the FBI," he continued, "we can find a way to get the evidence and witnesses to disappear, and then try to reopen the appeal for a more in-depth investigation — and they're going to get something very different and something to be greatly surprised by...... Of course, in your favor, in your favor, our best defense attorneys can wield them to knock down every prosecutor who dares to stand in front of them - and the result will be innocence, and you will be as innocent as a newborn baby. While some money will inevitably be spent in the process, and some little black puppies (a slurive term for FBI agents) will be sent to the Bering Sea to track down the source of atmospheric warming, but that's okay, the FBI has to handle at least 100 cases a year, and they won't feel too wronged - and then your photo will be taken down from the front page of the FBI's internal page, even if it doesn't bear much resemblance to you now, but that's a good thing, isn't it? ”

"And the institutions." Hopkins said.

"Oops," Chegalle said, "I was about to tell you that I recently got good news – three names have disappeared from the institution's bounty list." ”

He took a pleasant bite of the crispy bread that could be checked, "A cyren, a good man, and a martyr." ”

(To be continued)

The result of the deletion and reconstruction...... Walk......